


reflections by the koi pond

by TemporaryDysphoria



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Feelings Realisation, Heist fic, heist related injuries, jigen makes a brief cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22208854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemporaryDysphoria/pseuds/TemporaryDysphoria
Summary: Men love Fujiko Mine for her body, not her mind, or her personality. Those that see past her body are few and far between. She knows this, relies on this, uses it to its full potential for her own gain.When she discovers that Goemon's infatuation is no longer *just* an infatuation, it brings up some mixed feelings and she is forced to make a decision.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 11
Kudos: 69
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	reflections by the koi pond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampireNaomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireNaomi/gifts).



> For VampireNaomi!  
> I hope you enjoy this as Fujiko struggles with realizing that sometimes people don't just look at her and see a pretty face :)

Break in. Get the necklace. Get out.

That was the plan. It was fairly tame for Lupin’s usual standards – devoid of the trademark theatrics that generally followed the thief. Fujiko tied her hair back with two elastics, she couldn’t risk it coming undone while she was in the middle of a robbery. In the next room she knew that Goemon would be either meditating, or sharpening the edge on Zantetsuken – or perhaps both.

He wouldn’t talk to her now before the heist. She’d offended him the last time they worked together and as far as she knew, he still hadn’t forgiven her. ( _Those samurai sure knew how to hold grudges_ ). That aside, she liked working with Goemon. He was calm, collected, reliable, in a fight and in general. A good person to have by her side, nowhere near as distractible as Lupin, and ten times more palatable than Jigen, even at his most disagreeable.

Plus, he still held onto the boyish infatuation with her that amused her so much when she saw it on men’s faces. Even now, after months of betrayals, he still snuck glances. Still looked at her with visible want in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. Maybe one day she’d let him in. Give him a small taste of what he so clearly wanted. If his physical appearance was anything to judge by, it would _definitely_ be worth it…

Although, she didn’t really want to ruin his already low opinion of her much further - it was so much more fun when the men thought she was worth more than she was. Like Lupin – who was _fun_ , and even more _fun_ to string along with the promise of a kiss or a romp between the sheets. He was as predictable as an old clock, but no less amusing for it.

She checked her reflection in the mirror, pulling back a loose strand of hair. She slid the few multitools she was going to take into the internal pockets of her jumpsuit before she zipped the leather shut. She didn’t need as many as usual, she had Goemon after all.

* * *

They arrive at the estate under the cover of darkness. Fujiko killed the engine of her motorbike, and Goemon landed quietly on his feet like a cat when he leapt off the pillion seat. The angled edge of the roof loomed in the distance, almost black against the dark blue sky. Goemon tilted his head to the side, listening intently. Fujiko couldn’t hear anything bar the slow trickling of water in a nearby koi pond.

He hadn’t said much on the way over. He was living up to the strong and silent stereotype.

Fujiko pulled out the grappling bracelet Lupin had lent her, sliding it past the cuff of her jumpsuit. As she was about to discharge it, Goemon swung an arm out in front of her.

“I will check first,” he said softly, and then with the barest bend of his knees he was gone.

She sent the grappling hook flying after waiting for the affirmative hand signal from the top of the estate wall. As she approached him, Goemon reached down and grabbed her wrist, pulling her up beside him like she was nothing more than paper.

“There are no guards,” he murmured once she’d reset the hook into the bracelet, “I do not like this.”

A quick scan of the area confirmed Goemon’s observation. When she looked back at him, she was surprised to find him staring at her. He flicked his gaze to the side quickly, but wasn’t quick enough to hide the light blush on his cheeks. She smiled when he refused to meet her gaze.

“You can _look_ you know,” she purred, leaning in closer to try and goad a reaction, “we’ll have to wait until after we finish this to do anything though…”

Goemon huffed a small amount of air out of his nostrils, pink cheeks a stark contrast to his grumpy tone.

“I wasn’t looking at you to look at you, I was just – “

He sighed, and Fujiko would have been offended if it weren’t for the next words out of his mouth.

“I was admiring how well-suited you are for this kind of work.”

He leapt down from the wall then and started across the large expanse of lawn. Fujiko had to jog to keep up with his tall strides.

“Goemon, wait.”

He stopped a few feet short of the pond, head tilted to the side again, before he bent down and continued on his way stealthily. Fujiko had no choice but to mirror his actions, until they finally reached the wall of the building they were targeting.

Goemon pointed upwards and Fujiko caught his meaning immediately. The building was a more traditional one, with the overhang of the roof low enough to grab a hold of. If only she was a little taller.

“Give me a boost,” she whispered, and Goemon nodded, holding his hands together in a sling. She only needed a short lift before she could reach the roof and pull herself up. She was already standing and moving when Goemon landed beside her. The opening to the room below was a small one – a piece of damage that hadn’t been repaired (lucky for them, unlucky for the owner). Goemon fitting through would be difficult, but for Fujiko it was going to be a piece of cake.

She made no noise as she dropped to the floor, resisting the urge to giggle as she took in Goemon’s annoyed expression when he landed on spread legs with feline grace a few minutes later.

Her amusement was forgotten when they approached the safe. Fujiko was self-aware enough to know that she wasn’t as good at recognising safe mechanisms as Lupin was (the man had an innate knack for them), but she knew enough. Goemon stood guard like a statue as she started to work on the potential combinations. Less than a minute in she knew it was going to take a while. Forgoing the manual methods, she pulled out the small monitor (another gift courtesy of Lupin’s tinkering) that would calculate the likelihood of a keycode combination based on the wear and tear of a visual imprint of the keypad. She set it up like Lupin had showed her, then they had nothing to do but wait.

Goemon raised an eyebrow when she said his name the first time, only turning towards her after the second attempt.

“Yes?”

“What did you mean, on the wall?”

One of these days she was going to have to ask him how he managed to keep his expression so impassive. It was honestly impressive.

He sighed again, as though the question was an intrusive bother.

“I meant exactly what I said. You are well-suited for this work.”

The dusty pink on the tops of his cheeks said more than his words did.

“Surely that’s not the only thing though, I doubt you were admiring me only for my work ethic…”

Goemon grumbled as she sidled up to him, leather jumpsuit unzipped _just_ enough to give him a good view. Fujiko preened, she knew she looked good, and now was as good an opportunity as ever to flaunt it, especially to a willing audience. Her suspicions were confirmed when Goemon struggled to tear his eyes away from her cleavage that was threatening to spill out over the leather.

“Put yourself away,” he hissed, flush spreading down his neck. Fujiko couldn’t help but grin when he steadfastly met her gaze, obviously forcing himself to not look any lower. She pitched her voice in the syrupy tone that she knew could drop men to their knees in the right situation.

“You don’t have to look away if you don’t want to. I don’t mind.”

Goemon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached between them, and Fujiko’s breath caught when his fingers took a calculated hold of the zipper. Was he really going to make the first move? Who would have known that quiet, awkward Goemon could have such a presence about him? With her heart in her throat Fujiko nearly choked when Goemon slowly and carefully zipped her jumpsuit all the way back up to the base of her neck.

“You are beautiful. You don’t need to expose yourself for me to know that.”

With no more zip to close, Goemon’s hand slid across a collarbone warmly until it came to rest on a shoulder, squeezing.

“I admire you for more than your beauty. I admire you when you put your nimble mind to a task. I admire you when you use your skills to weave your seductive words into webs of steel. I admire your strength and how understated it is in your physical body. I am never filled with more pride than when I see people realise, they have underestimated you. Even when you anger me beyond belief with your blatant disregard for honour, or loyalty I admire you.”

Fujiko stared dumbly, for the first time in a long time she was lost for words. When Goemon’s hand dropped from her shoulder she felt the loss of warmth keenly and to her surprise she _missed_ it. She opened to her mouth to say – something. To question the frank admissions, to deny them. Men loved her for her body, _only_ her body. That was what she gambled on, what she relied on.

Lupin had been the exception – he’d seen her keen mind and sought to use it, to bring it onto his side. But even he, with his insight and wisdom, was still weak to her feminine wiles. Was still brought to his knees by the mere suggestion of a sensual suggestion. That Goemon wasn’t – or rather – wasn’t any longer, was a new and novel experience for Fujiko.

Suddenly self-conscious she blurted out before she could stop herself, “You still think I’m pretty though, right?”

A small smile cracked Goemon’s stone façade then.

“Fujiko, you are exquisite in every sense of the word – but you already know that.”

A small beep interrupted her reply. She wasn’t sure if she was glad, or annoyed at the technology. If nothing else, the high-pitched sound had diffused the mounting tension in the room. The safe started to open with a hiss, and in her periphery, she saw Goemon move – hand edging towards Zantetsuken.

“We have company,” he said, voice returned to its usual low monotone, “be quick.”

A single step took him into the next room and Fujiko heard a low thump followed by a grunt. The sound of someone taking a hard-wooden sword scabbard straight to the chest. The safe was opening, but nowhere near quick enough and she cursed the companies that had designed the delayed action opening systems. The next moment, her heart was in her throat again, though it was not the same pleasant feeling it had been from earlier.

Goemon’s body came flying back through the doorway like a ragdoll. The man that followed him would have been easily three times the samurai’s size, with features like a bulldog, only meaner. Goemon scrambled to his feet from where he’d hit the wall, Zantetsuken gripped tightly in his fists. He slid into his battle stance, ready to unsheathe the weapon at a moments notice. The man took a thunderous step forward.

“Hurry, Fujiko” he muttered, before stepping forward once more to meet the goliath.

Fujiko couldn’t have gone faster if she tried. As soon as she saw the gap, she reached through and found the slim chain of the necklace. She pulled, sliding the gem through with a precision that seemed so out of place in the backdrop of a fight. A quick inspection confirmed it was the right gem.

 _It was so large, and beautiful – almost too beautiful to give away. Maybe she could dupe the two men she’d promised to hand it over too and keep it for herself_.

It was the giants turn to hit the wall on the receiving end of a heavy kick from Goemon. The wall shuddered, and cracked under the weight of the blow. Goemon looked over at her – first at her face, then down to her hand where she was holding the necklace.

“Good,” he said brusquely, “Now we go.”

The giant man groaned from his position on the floor as the echo of footsteps outside grew louder. Fujiko had maybe half a moment to prepare as Goemon gripped her around the waist and _threw_ her into the air. She grabbed the edge of the opening they’d climbed in from and muscled her way up through it – arms burning.

“Goemon.”

He looked up and nodded, before unsheathing his sword and cutting a large hole in the side of the building. Fujiko leapt from the roof, now it was her turn to land beside the samurai as she leapt from the roof. They ran side by side until they’d almost reached the koi pond. They were so close. Fujiko slowed for a moment to slide her bracelet forward.

Goemon pushed, no, he shoved her to the side, making her stumble and nearly fall. When she regained her balance, she stared at the trip line they’d barely missed, severed at the edge of Goemon’s sword. Again, she reached for her bracelet but Goemon grabbed her wrist.

“We will go through the wall. Do not waste your time.”

Goemon’s body jerked as though it was being ripped backwards. A low grunt was coughed from his chest and Fujiko watched as the arm holding his sword was wrenched back at an unnatural angle. A spray of red burst out in the corner of Fujiko’s vision and Goemon’s eyes went wide as he let go of his weapon, limb hanging limply by his side, a large gash visible from his shoulder, right down the side of his back.

The goliath of a man had caught up with them, a large blade in one of his hands now glistening with crimson, the other holding Zantetsuken. Goemon stared him down – killing intent now visible, moving slowly, all the while muttering just low enough for Fujiko to hear.

“Change of plans. You go over the wall. I will meet you at your bike.”

It wasn’t an order Fujiko needed to hear twice, especially when the blade came down with a second sickeningly wet sound. She disengaged the grappling hook and took careful aim.

It was only when she reached the top of the wall that she realised that their pursuers had expected it. A dark figure was waiting for her, and before she had time to move, let alone untangle the grappling hook, she’d taken a glancing kick to the stomach, enough to wind her. A fist crashed into her cheekbone, making her eyes sting. Thick fingers reached into her jumpsuit, pulling back violently. The clasp of the necklace broke with barely a sound. Fujiko kicked up, and was rewarded with a pained sound from the covered figure. She saw the necklace float briefly through the air before it dropped beyond her vision – back towards where Goemon was. Another kick rendered the figure motionless and with barely a second thought, Fujiko leapt back down to chase the jewellery.

She stopped stunned once she landed. The giant man was motionless on the ground, his own blade slammed through his chest. Close by him was Goemon, a second, third and fourth laceration adding to his initial injury. His shoulder looked like more like ribbons than skin.

He’d made it to the wall and had cut his exit by the looks of it; before falling to his knees, his sword propping his body up. Voices were yelling in the distance, savage barks joining the cacophony of noise as the dogs picked up on the scent of blood.

To her right, Fujiko could see the necklace where it had landed. It shimmered in the moonlight, every facet seeming to pick up a different beam of light. It was beckoning her closer, begging her to save it, to liberate it from the dark confines of the safe it was being kept in.

To her left was Goemon, bloody and still. Goemon, who had admired her, even when she stabbed him ruthlessly in the back. Who would probably still admire her even as she continued to stab him in the back. 

There was a triumphant yell as the first man rounded the corner. She was only going to be able to retrieve one of the prizes. It was the hardest decision she’d made in years.

* * *

Goemon’s weight was heavy against her back, one arm gripping her waist tightly, the other barely touching her at all. He winced with every bump, teeth gritting against her shoulder where he’d pressed his face to maintain his balance on the pillion seat of the motorbike.

The trip to the house they were staying at with Lupin and Jigen had never seemed so long. Goemon barely made it to the living room, collapsing heavily onto the couch – skin sickeningly pale, a hue like Fujiko had never seen before on the samurai.

“Call Jigen.” Goemon grit out before closing his eyes, “Need stitches.”

She did as she was told – relayed the information to the gruff gunman on the other end of the phone. He hung up on her as soon as she said the word ‘stitches’ so she assumed in good faith that he was on his way.

Goemon’s eyes were still closed when she sat down beside him, her head level with his own from her position on the carpet. He cracked open an eye and regarded her steadily.

“Did you get the necklace after it fell?”

She shook her head, trying to ignore the confused look that passed over Goemon’s features.

“Why?”

“It was the necklace, or you.”

Goemon closed his mouth into a thin line. His good arm dropped towards Fujiko, landing in her hair. One of the elastics had broken during her tussle with the figure on the wall, and the rough movement from Goemon was enough to break the second. He ran a hand through the locks, until his hand reached her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you.”

Fujiko’s heart was in her throat for the third time that evening. It wasn’t pleasant like the first time, wasn’t beating a thousand beats a minute like the second, now it was like a dull, damning ache.

Dull because she wasn’t used to being ‘afraid’ for someone who wasn’t herself. The feeling was muted but there, begging to make itself known. Damning because Fujiko had a reputation to maintain, a reputation that couldn’t have it known that she had the potential for a weakness. She ached to do something, to hug him, to kiss him, to do something that would take the impassive expression off of his face that was trained on her.

His hand left her shoulder and like earlier she _missed_ the soft warmth. Fingers trailed up her neck until the hand cupped her cheek. He winced at the movement and it was like a stab in her own chest as she watched the edges of the lacerations move, almost of their own accord. Injuries taken for her, because Goemon had been protecting her.

It was too much. In the distance the familiar hum of the Fiat rolled up the hill. She leaned forward and she heard a door slam, feet crunching against the gravel of the driveway. She kissed the edge of Goemon’s mouth (it was all she _could_ do – he deserved so much more, but not from her) and when she leaned back, he was smiling.

“You didn’t have to get so cut up just to get a kiss you know,” she said, because sarcasm was as good a defence as armour, especially when Goemon was looking at her like he could see right through her and maybe he could ( _and wasn’t that a terrifying thought_ ).

“Maybe next time I will simply ask,” he murmured with a wry smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and if Fujiko had felt caught before, she was chained up against a wall now.

The front door slammed and the tall lanky figure of the gunman loomed in Fujiko’s periphery. She barely heard him speak, but within moments he was stomping past her, returning shortly after with the suturing kit Lupin kept in the kitchen. She was pushed gently out of the way, but not before Goemon gripped her hand tightly and squeezed – the warmth of his fingers staying with her long after the touch had ceased.


End file.
